


Breathless

by bambirosesavage



Series: Yuri's Angels [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Child Neglect, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Family, Fluff, Foster Care, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, Married Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Past Child Abuse, Retired Victor Nikiforov, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-10-22 01:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17653523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bambirosesavage/pseuds/bambirosesavage
Summary: When Yuri gets sick before Yuuri's competition, a decision has to be made.





	1. Chapter 1

“My Papa, we can get this?” Yuri pulled on the hem of Yuuri’s shirt. He held up a bag of cookies for his approval. His fine blond hair was pulled back away from his face in a ponytail, and his eyes were bright. He looked so happy. Yuuri had to be strong.

“No, angel. We have snacks at home. Go put those back, please.”

Yuri’s bottom lip jutted out in a small pout, but he did as he was told, stomping down the aisle so that his sneakers lit up with every step. 

The corner of Yuuri’s lip quirked up. Yuri was getting so big. He was still small for his age and likely always would be, but he was growing. The clothes they had bought him during that first week were too small for him now. He watched as Yuri shoved the bag back onto the shelf and hopped back to the cart, keeping his eyes on his feet to see the lights in his heels flash red every time he landed. 

“Do you like your new shoes, Yura?”

“Watch me! Watch me!” Yuri jumped onto the next tile and shrieked when his shoes lit up. “Did you see? Did you see me?”

“Wow!” Yuuri exclaimed. “That was so cool! Good jump.”

“Papa, look! Watch me.” Yuri hopped over to Viktor and wrapped his arms around the man’s legs. “Got you!”

“You did get me.” Viktor easily pried the child off his legs and picked him up to hold him on his hip. “Now I got you!” He pressed a noisy kiss to Yuri’s cheek. The boy screeched and tried to push the man away, giggling all the while.

As cute as Yuri was being, Yuuri was grateful the grocery store was nearly empty of other customers. Now that Yuri was more comfortable around his foster parents and was getting healthier, he was coming out of his shell. Yuuri loved the boy’s newfound energy but wasn’t sure other shoppers would appreciate Yuri’s yelling. 

“My Papa! Help!” Yuri leaned away from Viktor, reaching out for Yuuri.

Yuuri smiled as he took the boy in his arms. Yuri was a little breathless and sweaty, and he clung to him for a few minutes before wiggling to get down again. Viktor dropped something into the cart and held his hand out for Yuri to take. He let him hop over a few aisles to pick out a package of Pull-Ups. 

Potty-training had officially begun and was going as well as could be expected. Yuri seemed to enjoy the independence the new diapers allowed him, but he didn’t always want to stop in the middle of playing or whatever he was doing to tell one of his caregivers that he needed to go to the bathroom. He also had the bad habit of not telling anyone that he had used his diaper and needed to be changed, which led to an increased number of diaper rashes. Viktor and Yuuri often put him on the toilet even when he insisted he didn’t need to go. The tantrums that resulted soon tapered off once they discovered Yuri could be bribed with cereal or pretzels to sit on the toilet. 

It was slow going, but it wasn’t as bad as either man feared. They hoped to have him out of Pull-Ups and into regular underwear by his birthday. Once he was potty-trained, Yuri could attend daycare a couple times a week. Yuuri had outright refused to let him go five days a week but had to admit that being around kids his own age would be good for him, and so he had reluctantly agreed. 

“Which ones do you want to wear this week?” Viktor asked. He held out two options for the boy to choose from.

“Those ones,” Yuri said immediately, taking the box of Mickey Mouse printed Pull-Ups and shoving it against Yuuri’s knees.

“Mickey Mouse!” Yuuri gasped as he put them in the cart. “Cool!”

Yuri beamed at the praise even though both men were pretty sure the boy had no idea that the character he had chosen was anything other than just a cute animal.

Despite all his running and jumping around at the store, Yuri fought his nap time. Yuuri ignored his fussing as he read him a story and sang him a song. Soon enough, Yuri fell asleep. Yuuri made sure his night light was on and went downstairs where Viktor was pulling pots out from the cabinet while checking the recipe pulled up on his phone.

“Did Yuri go down okay?”

“Eventually,” Yuuri laughed, turning on the kettle for some tea. “He was tired, but he didn’t want to believe it.”

“Too busy having fun,” Viktor smiled. “Those shoes were an inspiration, my dear.”

“I wasn’t sure he would like them,” Yuuri admitted. “I know he likes the little fire truck, but that has lights and noise. The shoes might have been a letdown, but I remember wanting sneakers like that when I was a kid.” He shrugged.

Viktor got out the tea while Yuuri collected the mugs. “You have good taste. You must have learned it from me.”

“Uh huh,” said Yuuri dryly. “Do we have sugar?”

Viktor passed him the canister as well as the bottle of honey he knew his husband would ask for next. “I will never understand you. Why do you need sugar  _ and _ honey?”

“I like it sweet.” Yuuri added a dash of milk to his mug.

“Your tea is like drinking hot sugar.”

“Yes,” Yuuri agreed. “It’s good.”

“I take back what I said about your good taste. Although, don't think I didn’t notice your strength at the store.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“With Yura and the cookies. You said no. You never say no to cookies.”

“We already had some, though. We didn’t need them.”

“That’s never stopped you before,” Viktor pointed out. “Usually this close to a competition, it’s a struggle to keep you from binge eating everything we have.”

“I’m not that bad,” Yuuri defended, though the coach did have a point. Food comforted him when he was sad or stressed out. This close to competition, he always craved the sweets and carbs he had to stay away from. That didn't seem to be the case this time, though. “Maybe I'm not as freaked out about this one.”

“Yuuri not stressed about a contest?” Viktor joked. “Who are you?”

“Maybe I'm finally used to the pressure,” Yuuri suggested. “I have been competing for a long time. I was bound to get used to it at some point.”

“Please. Let’s not kid ourselves. You’re always stressed. Something is different.”

Yuuri thought about it, and the answer was obvious. “This will be our first one with Yuri.”

Viktor blinked before his face split into a giddy grin. “You’re not a skater anymore. You’re a daddy now.”

“I’m a skater!” Yuuri protested but smiled back just as widely.

“Whatever you say, Daddy.”

* * *

 

The following evening, Yuuri and Viktor spent their time after practice quietly watching television while Yuri napped upstairs. Their time at the tink had gone pretty well for the most part. Yuuri flubbed the landing on his first jump, and so the majority of their time was spent going over that spot over and over until both of them felt more comfortable with it. Yuri, who normally enjoyed being at the rink and watching his foster dad skate, seemed a bit more irritable than usual. He had woken up that morning in a good mood and ate the rice porridge Yuuri made for breakfast without complaint, but once they settled in at the ice rink, his mood seemed to deteriorate. The toys they brought along with them didn't hold his attention for long. Viktor took a break from coaching to check Yuri’s diaper, which was dry and only upset the child more. Yakov ended up skating around the perimeter of the rink with him. Yuri loved skating was happy to hold Yakov’s hand and shuffle around the ice together, but even that wouldn’t occupy him as long as it usually would. He wanted Yuuri to hold him and cried when the man tried to explain why he couldn't. Back at home, he pushed his lunch around more than he ate it. Thinking he might be overtired, Yuuri put him down for his nap early, and for once the boy didn't fight it. 

“Oh my God,” Yuuri groaned, flexing his foot into Viktor’s lap as his husband massaged his ankle. “That’s nice.”

“Your feet are so ugly,” Viktor said fondly. “Look at your fat little toes.”

Yuuri jabbed his heel down, and Viktor flinched, smiling all the wider. “Kidding! I’m kidding.”

“Why do I put up with you?”

“Because you love me and because I love you.”

Yuuri wrinkled up his nose, and the tops of his ears went red. “You’re getting worse every day.”

“It’s your fault for showing me all those Japanese dramas. They’re so sappy. They’re wonderful.” 

“I knew you would like them,” Yuuri laughed. “I miss the game shows.”

“They sound ridiculous; I don't blame you. The Disney movies are fun, at least. How many times have we watched  _ Frozen _ this week?”

“Four, I think. Yura loves it.”

“I’m surprised he’s not up yet,” Viktor remarked, reading the digital readout on their cable box. “What time did he go down?”

“Early. Around 1 or 1:30.”

“It’s close to 5. If he doesn't get up soon, he won't sleep tonight.”

“I didn't realize it was so late,” Yuuri said, straightening up. It was definitely odd for Yuri to sleep so late. His naps always last an hour and a half, maybe 2 if he was especially tired. He would get up in time to play before he joined Viktor to walk Makkachin before dinner. Yuuri was so accustomed to that routine that he scarcely felt the need to check up on Yuri or indeed expect any deviation from that routine at all. “You're right.” He moved to get up, but Viktor beat him to it.

“I’ll go get him. He’s probably going to be fussy, and he’s already been fussy for you today.”

“Thank you. I need to get dinner started anyway. He didn't eat much earlier and now it’s too late for a snack.”

“Our baby tyrant,” Viktor cooed.

Yuri was fussy when Viktor carried him downstairs but not angry like the men expected him to be.

“There you are, sleepyhead,” Yuuri greeted. The child didn’t move from his position on Viktor’s hip. His little nose was tucked into the crook of the man's neck, effectively shielding his face from view and reminding Yuuri vividly of the first time he ever saw him. Something tightened in his stomach. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” said Viktor, but Yuuri wasn't convinced. The coach smoothed Yuri's flyaway hair down. “He was sleeping hard when I woke him up. His body must have thought it was bedtime. Poor baby must have been so tired, huh?”

Yuri whined and turned his head away from Viktor’s neck to face Yuuri. His eyes were puffy, and his nose was red and runny. Yuuri ran his fingers through Yuri's tangled hair, surreptitiously feeling for a fever that wasn't there. “How come you're so sleepy today? Just wait a bit, and we’ll get you something to eat. That will make you feel better.”

Yuri whined again, but Viktor turned him away. “Come on. Let’s go play and let my Yuuri cook in peace. We haven’t played together all day.” He carried him into the playroom, and soon Yuuri could hear the first song of  _ Frozen _ begin, Viktor’s wobbly voice joining in.

The soup was simmering by Elsa’s coronation, and the side dishes were ready as “Let It Go” finished with Yuuri lip-synching along with it. He set the table and plated the food before going to call his family for dinner.

Viktor and Yuri were sat on the carpet, watching the TV with toys spread out in front of them, largely untouched. Yuri held his Elsa doll on his lap but didn't play with it. His favorite coloring book lay open, but the crayons were still in their cup, and the page was blank. Viktor nudged his leg with Kotonok, but Yuri ignored him except to move his leg out of the way. Yuuri couldn't remember the last time the boy had been so still.

“Boys? Time for dinner.”

“I wanna watch Elsa,” Yuri complained as Viktor paused the movie.

“I know. We can watch it after we’re done eating,” Yuuri promised.

Since Yuri had not eaten well at lunch, Yuuri had been confident he would scarf down his dinner without a problem. He was disappointed to see the boy picking at his food instead. Admittedly, the soup wasn't his favorite food, but he had never really complained about it before and could usually be trusted to eat at least the majority of what was in his bowl. Yuuri watched as he pushed the rice around on his plate without eating it. He rubbed his nose with the heel of his hand, smearing snot across his cheek. A few strands of hair stuck to his face.

“Are you feeling okay, angel?” he asked.

Yuri nodded, wiping his nose again.

“Is your tummy hurting?”

Yuri shook his head.

“How come you’re not eating?”

Yuri shrugged.

Yuuri sighed and looked at his husband, slightly annoyed that he didn’t appear to share his concern about Yuri. Now that he was more accustomed to eating regular meals and having food constantly available to him, Yuri was better about eating at a slower pace and stopping when he was full rather than making himself sick. He was pickier about his food now, too, and would sometimes refuse to eat something he was given. However, the need to hoard food hadn’t completely died off, and so it was very odd for him to pick at his food as much as he was doing. Yuuri took a deep breath and resolved to give the child as much time as he needed to eat his meal. 

By the time Viktor and Yuuri had finished and the older man was clearing the table, Yuri had stopped even pretending to eat and was instead petting Makkachin, who was under the table looking for snacks.

“You need to eat something, Yura,” Yuuri said, trying to be stern.

“I eated. Can Makk-in have some? She says she’s hungry.”

“No, Makkachin doesn’t need to eat your food. You do.”

“I did!” 

“Not very much. Eat a little more, and you can be done.”

Yuri squirmed on his seat. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

“I’ll take you when you’re done eating.”

Yuri inspected his plate, ignoring his soup bowl entirely. Finally, he selected a single grain of rice and popped it into his mouth. “All done.”

Yuuri sighed again. He had to remember to be more specific when giving the boy instructions. “Good job. Do you still have to go potty?”

“No,” said Yuri, sliding down from his chair. “I wanna watch Elsa.”

“Let’s at least try to go potty, okay?”

After a fruitless trip to the bathroom, Yuuri resumed the movie with Yuri while Viktor washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. He gave Yuri a sippy cup of Pediasure to help make up his missed meals.

Yuri seemed to have a little more energy after dinner. He scribbled idly in his coloring book and pushed Kotonok around the floor a bit, but his energy still wasn’t where it usually would be. His nose was still running, and every so often he had to wipe it with his hand or sleeve. 

“Come blow your nose for me, angel,” Yuuri called, holding out a tissue.

Yuri tottered over and did as he was told. He held still as Yuuri cleaned his face off with a baby wipe. “Do hair,” he requested, climbing into Yuuri’s lap.  

Yuuri dug around in the couch cushions until he found a hairband. He combed through Yuri’s hair with his fingers, gently untangling it as he went. He pulled his hair into a simple ponytail; there was no point in doing something fancier when they would take it down for bed only a couple hours later. He kissed the top of his head to let him know he was done.

Instead of getting down, Yuri leaned back against Yuuri’s chest. Yuuri adjusted him on his lap into a more secure embrace and ran his knuckles up and down his bony back. Yuri tucked his thumb into his mouth, apparently content to finish the movie there. Yuuri touched the boy’s cheek with the back of his hand to check again for a fever. Yuri could be calm and sweet, but the man had a sinking suspicion about his clingy listlessness. He face did feel a little warm, he decided, but his temperature definitely wasn’t high enough to warrant the struggle of giving him medicine. 

“You two look cozy,” Viktor said as he joined them on the couch right before the end of the movie.

“I don't think we’re feeling too well,” said Yuuri softly.

“No? I thought he said his stomach wasn’t upset.”

“I think he’s getting a fever.”

Viktor felt Yuri’s forehead for himself, frowning as the boy ignored him completely. “He doesn’t seem very warm to me.”

“He’s a little warm,” Yuuri argued.

“I suppose he could be catching a cold.”

Yuuri nodded. “He should probably go to bed early tonight. If he gets plenty of rest now before he starts feeling bad, maybe we can get whatever it is out of his system.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem. He’s half-asleep now anyway.”

Yuuri looked down to where Yuri was staring blankly at the screen as the credits rolled, his eyes open half mast and glazed over. He bounced him on his knee to get his attention. 

Yuri blinked, looking around at his foster parents. “What?”

“Let’s get ready for bed.”

“Nooo,” Yuri complained as Yuuri handed him off to Viktor.

“Yes!” Viktor cheered over his complaints.

Yuri continued to complain as Viktor helped him brush his teeth and change into his pajamas, but he didn’t even make it halfway through his chosen bedtime story. 

“I wonder if Yura really is getting sick,” Viktor said as they got into bed later that night.

“I told you I thought he was,” said Yuuri.

“No, I mean that he might just be tired,” Viktor explained. “We’ve been going to the rink with him every day and then running errands or playing or working on potty training whenever we get home. He might be worn out.”

“It hasn’t seemed to bother him before now. We can’t just leave him at home.”

“No, but Yakov could babysit while we’re at practice. That way he could stay here with Makkachin and all his things,” Viktor suggested.

“Yuri does have him wrapped around his finger,” Yuuri sighed.

“But,” prompted Viktor, nudging him with his elbow.

“But,” Yuuri smiled, “I’d rather have a doctor say he’s just tired instead of assuming it. I’m not saying you’re wrong. We have been really busy lately, but Yuri can’t communicate to us what he’s feeling, and I don't think it’s a good idea to ignore whatever is wearing him out and hope it goes away. Maybe I’m over analyzing this. He isn’t even running a fever-”

“But you’d rather be safe than sorry,” finished Viktor, rolling over in bed to put his arm around his husband. “You’re not overthinking anything. You’re being a father. If he’s not back to normal in the morning, I’ll make him a doctor’s appointment.”

In the end, they didn’t need to wait until morning to make their decision. Yuuri woke up slowly. The bedroom was still dark, and his brain was fuzzy from sleep and wasn’t working at a very high speed. There was a soft but persistent noise in the background, and Viktor was sitting up beside him. “What is it?” he murmured. He groaned as Viktor turned on the bedside lamp.

“Yuri’s coughing,” Viktor said as he got out of bed, his silvery hair hanging in his eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll go with you,” Yuuri offered, sitting up.

“No, that’s okay. Go back to sleep. I’ve got it.”

Even so, Yuuri laid awake, listening to what was happening down the hall. He could hear the water running in the bathroom and Viktor talking to Yuri. After a few minutes, the soft coughing stopped, and the house was quiet again. When Viktor returned to bed, Yuuri asked, “Is he okay?”

“Yes. I got him some water, and he settled back down.” Viktor turned the light off.

“Was he upset?”

“No, not really,” said Viktor and rolled over to lay his head on Yuuri’s chest. “He was still mostly asleep, so he was just tired.”

“Did you check to see if he had a fever?” Yuuri asked.

“No,” Viktor murmured. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. We can check it in the morning,” Yuuri said, but Viktor was already asleep. Yuuri must have fallen asleep too because before he knew it, he was awoken once again by the sound of coughing, this time sounding louder and more painful. He slid out from under where Viktor was still sleeping on him to go check on Yuri. He stumbled down the hall, trailing his fingers along the hall for guidance in the dark. The door to Yuri’s bedroom was open halfway, and greenish light from his nightlight spilled out.

“Yura,” Yuuri cooed. He could make out the outline of Yuri sitting up in bed, waiting for him. 

“My Papa,” Yuri replied tearfully. 

“I’m going to turn the light on, okay?” Yuuri flipped the switch, squinting his eyes against the sudden light. Yuri sat with his knees drawn up to his chest and his eyes shut tight. His face was red from exertion, and a sheen of sweat was broken out across his forehead. “Baby, are you okay?”

Yuri shook his head, still coughing. It wasn’t a very deep or wet sounding cough, but Yuri didn’t seem able to stop. Tears streamed down his face,and snot bubbled at his nose. He reached out to Yuuri, grabbing for him.

“You’re okay,” Yuuri said. He sat down on the edge of the bed and rubbed his back. “Just breathe, it’s okay.” He let him crawl into his lap and rocked him as best he could, waiting for the coughing to ease. “I’m right here. You’re okay.”

Now that he was being held, Yuri’s breathing began to slow. His back still shuddered with his coughs, but he sniffed back his tears. Yuuri pressed a kiss to the top of his head, letting himself linger there to gauge his temperature. He was definitely warmer than he had been before he went to bed, but he was upset and crying and had been under the covers for a few hours. He would need a thermometer to know for sure whether he had a fever or not. He shook the sippy cup of water on the nightstand and offered it to Yuri. “Take it slow. Little sips.”

Yuri sipped his water, tear tracks drying on his face. “I don't like it,” he told Yuuri, putting his hand to his throat.

“I know you don't,” said Yuuri. “I’m sorry you’re coughing so much.”

A knock at the door startled them both, sending Yuri into another coughing fit. “I have some medicine for him,” Viktor said. He held out a medicine cup of red cough syrup.

“Thanks,” Yuuri said, but Yuri shook his head.

“It’s nasty. I don't wanna.”

“You don't want to keep coughing, do you?” Viktor asked, squatting down in front of the boy. “This will help you stop, then you can sleep.”

Yuri shook his head again. Tears glistened in his eyes. “No.”

“Please, Yura,” Yuuri tried. “You’ll feel so much better after you take it.”

“I don't want to,” Yuri sobbed, burying his head in Yuuri’s chest.

Yuuri sighed. Yuri was only three. He was too young to be reasoned with, but the man hated the idea of forcing him to do something when he already not feeling well. If he couldn’t reason with him and wouldn’t force him, there was only one other option he could think of. “If you take your medicine, Papa will you get you some juice get the nasties out of your mouth.”

Yuri didn’t lift his head. Yuuri looked to Viktor, shrugging. 

“You know what will make you feel better, angel?” the coach said. “A bath. You didn’t have bath time tonight.”

“A bath? It’s the middle of the night,” Yuuri said.

“So what?” Viktor shrugged. “It will make him feel better. It will loosen the mucus in his chest making him cough. It’s a win-win.”

“Fine,” Yuuri agreed reluctantly. “Do you want to have bath time?”

“Bath?” Yuri finally lifted his face to look at them. 

Yuuri held up the medicine cup. “Medicine first.”

Yuri pursed his lips against the lip of the cup, whining in the back of his throat, before accepting the cough syrup. He wrinkled his nose and gagged. 

Yuuri covered the child’s mouth with his hand so he wouldn’t spit it out. “Swallow it. You’re only making it worse if you don't swallow.”

The boy forced it down and stuck his tongue out. Viktor kissed his cheek. “Good job!”

“Juice,” Yuri demanded, making the men laugh. 

“Of course, angel.”

“Come on,” Yuuri hefted Yuri up on his hip. “Let’s get your bath going.”

The bath was shorter than his baths usually were. At two in the morning, it was too late to spend much time playing in the water. Once he was in the water with his juice, Yuri was much calmer. The steam helped stem his cough, and he was able to relax. Yuuri sang “Let it Go” as he gently washed his body with his favorite apple body wash while Viktor sat on the closed toilet seat, watching them. When the water was no longer steaming, they took Yuri out of the tub and redressed him in a fresh diaper and a new set of pajamas. They settled him between him in their bed. They normally wouldn’t allow him to sleep in their bed, but seeing as he wasn’t feeling well, they would make an exception for one night.

“Good night,” Viktor whispered, tucking the boy’s still damp hair behind his ear. Yuuri rubbed his back until Yuri’s drooping eyes finally closed.

“Another crisis averted,” Viktor smiled tiredly as he sank back into his pillows. He clasped Yuuri’s hand on where it rested on Yuri’s waist.

“Yeah,” Yuuri reluctantly agreed. “For now.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Yuuri was quick to turn off the alarm when it sounded the next morning. He lay perfectly still, waiting to see if it had woken Viktor or Yuri. They stayed quiet beside him, and he let out a little sigh of relief. Despite the calming effects of his bath, Yuri was up a few times more the previous night. Thanks to the cough syrup he had forced down, he wasn't coughing anymore, but his nose was stuffy and his throat was sore. He didn't have a fever even though he still felt too warm to Yuuri. They had only gotten him back to sleep a couple of hours ago. His breathing still sounded a bit labored to the skater, likely due to the combination of his blocked nose and his thumb in his mouth. 

Yuuri cuddled closer to his foster son. The early February air was cold outside the blankets, the weak sunlight filtering through the curtains doing nothing to warm it. Yuri’s light blond hair seemed to glow gold in the morning light. His long, wispy eyelashes were almost iridescent. His face was smooth and serene now in sleep, but Yuuri would still make out the dry tear tracks on his cheeks and the crustiness around his nose. Yuuri placed a gentle kiss on his crown and shut his eyes, ready to sleep again.

Viktor pinched his cheek. “Are you getting up? The alarm went off.”

Yuuri groaned and batted Viktor’s hand away. “Not yet. It’s too early.”

“You’re going to be late,” Viktor warned. “Go on and shower. I’ll make the coffee.”

Yuuri reluctantly peeled himself out of bed, going slowly as to not jostle yuri too much, and stumbled into the shower. When he emerged, dressed and only slightly more awake, the bed was empty, and he could smell Viktor’s too strong coffee from downstairs. In the kitchen, he found Yuri sitting on the counter while Viktor put a pair of fuzzy socks on him, looking utterly forlorn. 

“My Papa, be careful,” he said, pointing to the coffee pot. “Hot.”

“I will,” Yuuri promised as he poured himself a cup. “How are you feeling this morning? Is your nose still stuffy?”

Yuri shrugged. He lifted his foot to feel his socks. “Soft.”

Yuuri took his little foot in his hand to feel for himself. “They are soft, aren't they? What color are they?”

Yuri held his arms out, and Yuuri obediently scooped him up. “I’m sorry. It’s too early for quizzes.”

“What do you want for breakfast?” Viktor asked.

“It’s too early for quizzes,” Yuuri repeated.

“Eggs it is then,” Viktor said, taking the carton out of the refrigerator. “Good choice.”

Yuuri rearranged Yuri so he was on his front instead of resting on his hip. Yuri wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s neck and his legs around his waist. He leaned his head against Yuuri’s shoulder. He was still dressed in his pajamas and was warm and loose in his arms. Yuuri swayed back and forth slightly, rocking him. Yuri sighed, his breath warm against Yuuri’s neck.

“Are you still sleepy, Yuri?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too.” Yuuri kissed the side of his head. Being careful not to spill hot coffee down Yuri’s back, Yuuri sat down at the dining table to wait for Viktor to finish cooking. Yuri tucked his arms up between their chests but otherwise didn't move. 

“Did he go back to sleep?” Viktor asked as he brought the food in a few minutes later. He set out plates of eggs, sausage, and fruit as well as a cup of yogurt and a sippy-cup full of juice for Yuri.

“I don’t know.” Yuri’s hair obscured his face. Yuuri pushed it back to check. Yuri’s eyes were closed and his mouth was slightly open, but he could simply be shutting them out. Yuri wasn't necessarily shy and was pretty good around people he liked and felt comfortable with, but sometimes he got overwhelmed or just didn't want to interact with anyone anymore. It wasn't unusual to find him sitting completely awake with his eyes shut or for him to willfully ignore everything and everyone around him. “Either he's asleep or he's done with us for now.”

“Poor little thing,” Viktor cooed. He kissed Yuuri’s cheek before kissing Yuri’s head. “Is he feverish?”

“Not really. He’s a little warm, but that might be from being up and down all night.”

“It was a really long night, wasn’t it?” Viktor sighed, cutting up a sausage for Yuuri before getting one for himself. “I’m exhausted.”

“You look exhausted.” Viktor was seldom untidy, but now he was distinctly rumpled. Yuuri couldn’t remember the last time they had breakfast in their pajamas. Viktor was unshowered. His hair flopped over his forehead, and silver stubble dotted his chin. It was a rare thing indeed that Yuuri was more put together than his husband.

Viktor smiled humorlessly. “Thank you, darling.”

“You know what I mean,” Yuuri insisted. “We’re all tired. I really don't think bringing Yura to the rink today would be a good idea. Even if we bundle him up, it will be too cold for him there. He needs to stay home and catch up on his sleep.”

Viktor nodded. “I think you’re right. We all could use a nap.”

Yuuri scooped up a bite of his eggs, being careful not to accidentally drop any of it on Yuri’s head. 

“Do you want me to take him so you can eat?” Viktor offered. 

“No, it’s okay. He should eat something though before it gets cold.” He bounced his leg a bit. “Yura, angel. Come on and eat some breakfast.”

Yuri grunted and pressed himself closer to Yuuri but didn’t respond further.

Viktor shoveled the last of his food into his mouth, his cheeks bulging. “I’ll take him,” he said thickly. “You need to eat, too.”

Yuri shrieked as he was pulled away from the warmth and comfort of Yuuri’s lap but settled easily against Viktor’s broad shoulder.

“I know,” Viktor cooed. “Being sick is so hard, but you’re okay. Look! Papa made eggs. Do you want to try some eggs? They’re really  yummy.”

Yummy may have been a bit of an overstatement in Yuuri’s opinion. Viktor, while determined, had no talent for making eggs, though at least these weren’t burned so much as well overdone. Even so, Yuri eventually perked up enough to pick at his portion of browned eggs, though he abandoned them as soon as he noticed the sausage and yogurt also on the table.

“I should call Yakov,” said Yuuri once he gulped down the last of his coffee, “and let him know we’re not coming in today.”

Viktor furrowed his brow. “Why would we do that? Of course you’re going. Contest is in two weeks.”

“But we just agreed Yuri can’t go,” Yuuri argued, bewildered. Hadn’t Viktor just said they should sleep? “We need to rest.”

“You’ve rehearsed with less sleep than this.” Viktor waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “You’ll be fine.”

“But,” Yuuri spluttered. “Yuuri-”

“-will stay home with me,” Viktor finished. “Yakov can train you today. It will be good to give him something useful to do. Go before you are late.”

“I can’t just leave him when he’s not feeling well,” Yuuri protested. “How am I supposed to work when I know he’s sick?” Yuri hadn’t been truly sick since when he moved in, and Yuuri had stayed with him every minute he was unwell. He had gotten the occasional cough or sniffles, but they had been lucky to avoid any real illness since he joined their family. Anytime Yuri so much as sneezed, Yuuri was there with a tissue and a kiss, ready to make everything better. Although Yuuri had to remind himself, the child wasn’t as sick now as he had been that first day so many months ago. However, he couldn’t imagine doing anything other than taking care of him. “How am I supposed to work when I know he’s sick?”

“You will be fine. I’ll be disappointed in you if Yakov tells me you’re slacking off.”

“I’m his dad! He needs me!” Yuuri all be shouted. He didn’t know when he’d last been so frustrated.

Viktor quirked an eyebrow up. Yuuri never raised his voice. “And he will have you,” Viktor stated as calmly as ever, “after practice. Now go. You know where the keys are.”

Yuuri was about to argue back, but Viktor cut him off. “I am his father, too. I can take care of him. I understand that you’re tired and that you want to stay home with us, and as your husband, I can sympathize with you. I would love nothing more than to go back to bed with you for the rest of the day, but I am not just your husband. I am your coach, and as your coach, I’m telling you to go to the rink. I know you’re tired, but you just have to deal with it. Maybe your stamina will only be that of a normal person today, but you will be fine. Yakov is a good coach, and he will be more than willing to fill in for me today. Now go before you’re late.”

Yuuri stared at Viktor. The couple never fought. But, Yuuri reminded himself, this wasn’t a fight. How could it be a fight when he found himself agreeing with Viktor’s every point?

“Are you sure you want me to take the car?” he asked at last. “What if there’s an emergency?”

“Then I will call a cab, but there won’t be any emergency. You worry too much, my love. Come let me kiss you before you go.”

The kiss was longer and deeper than it normally would be for a Thursday morning, but both men needed the reassurance they found there. When they broke apart, Yuuri’s face was flushed and Viktor’s eyes were shining. The older man brushed his fingertips over Yuuri’s soft cheek. “You’re so lovely.”

“Papa,” Yuri said, startling both of them. Somehow, they seemed to have forgotten he was still on Viktor’s lap. Luckily, he had ignored both their heated discussion and their kiss to scoop out the last of his yogurt with his fingers. “I went potty.”

“Thank you for telling me, angel. Maybe next time tell me you have to go before you go.”

Yuri ignored him. “Wanna watch Elsa.”

Viktor groaned.

* * *

Yuuri couldn’t keep his eyes off his watch. It was already past the time he would normally pack up for the day, and Yakov wasn’t showing any signs of letting up. His hair was damp with sweat, and his glasses kept slipping down his nose. He should have been thankful Yakov was taking this session so seriously, but Yuuri couldn’t help but feel a little resentful towards the old man. Yuuri had worked with Yakov before, but only as a secondary instructor to Viktor. One-on-one with him turned out to be a much different experience from what he was used to with his husband.

Viktor almost always skated with him as he coached. He demonstrated what he wanted him to do. If he wasn’t on the ice, Viktor would call out instructions to him along with a near-constant stream of teasing or playful jabs about his form or technique. Viktor was still hard on him and wouldn’t allow Yuuri to move on from a section until he was completely satisfied with it, even if they had to focus on one short sequence for days at a time. 

Working with Yakov was a different beast altogether. For one thing, Yakov never donned skates and joined him on the ice. Yakov was much older than Viktor and Yuuri, so his staying on the sidelines made sense, but it also showed that he did not view Yuuri as an equal as Viktor did. This wasn’t to say that the older coach was aloof, however. What he lacked in hands-on demonstrations he more than made up for in volume. His voice boomed across the ice, startling Yuuri into missteps and silly mistakes that would then have to be corrected through another series of shouted instructions. Unlike Viktor’s instructions that sounded more like banter than actual advice, Yakov’s were always straight to the point. He never teased him or mocked him like Viktor liked to do. Everything was kept strictly professional. Yakov would go over some of the smaller sections to double check his form and to polish his performance, but the coach seemed much more concerned about the routine as a whole and insisted upon run-through after run-through. Yuuri went over his entire show so many times he lost count, and they still weren’t done.

“You’re late!” Yakov yelled, and Yuuri stumbled to a stop. “It’s on the two, not the three. Really lean into it. Why are you stopping? Let’s go again from the top.”

Yuuri took off his glasses and wiped his face with the bottom of his shirt. He guessed he’d lost a pound in water weight from sweating that day alone. He got back into his starting position and waited for the coach’s signal. He was practicing without music for now. They had started out with the song blaring through the speakers, but as time went on and it needed to be restarted over and over, Yuuri supposed Yakov had gotten annoyed by it, and so they were now going by counts and claps instead.

Really, Yuuri supposed it was his own fault that his practice time was running so late. He found himself making stupid, careless mistakes: stumbling through his footwork or forgetting whole chunks of the choreography he had been rehearsing for months. He missed Viktor’s goodnatured taunts and Yuri’s excited cheers. The rink seemed colder and darker than usual without them.

He wondered what Viktor and Yuri were doing now. Normally, the boy would already be down for his nap, but there was no telling how the previous night’s fiasco would affect the day’s schedule. If Yuri went back to bed after Yuuri left, then he probably wouldn’t take a nap in the afternoon. Not taking a nap would make him cranky and a little difficult to handle, leading to more tantrums, which would stress both Yuri and Viktor out. He would have to go to bed early that night to make up for it. If Yuri didn’t go to sleep after breakfast, he likely took his nap early and would sleep longer than usual. If that was the case, he probably wouldn’t be very tired when bedtime rolled around. It would take a lot of coaxing and singing and storytelling and hair brushing to get him settled. If Yuri started coughing or feeling sick again, there was no way to know how their day would progress. Would he nap at all? Would he eat? Was he missing Yuuri? Was he giving Viktor a hard time? How was Viktor managing? Did he need him?

Yakov gave the signal, and Yuuri took off, forcing his attention back onto himself and his routine. He had to focus on what he was doing if he was going to make it back home before dinnertime. For the first time that day, he moved effortlessly around the ice, each step and gesture coming naturally. He could hear the music in his head. Viktor’s rang out in his memory, reminding him to relax his fingers and keep his shoulders down and back. The sound of his skates scraping against the ice drowned out Yakov’s shouts and counting. His legs ached and his abs were sore, but they supported him through every jump and spin. Before he knew it, he was striking his ending pose.

Viktor would have applauded, but Yakov simply nodded. “All right. Let’s pack it up, Yuuri.”

Yuuri stepped off the ice and gratefully accepted the water bottle the coach offered him. “Thanks for stepping in today. I wanted to stay home with Yuri, but Viktor wouldn’t hear of it.”

"Of course he wouldn’t,” Yakov said. “I trained him too well for that. You did well today, but there are still things to clean up. You’ll be here tomorrow?”

“I expect so. Hopefully little one will be over whatever he has by then.”

Yakov grunted. “Let me know what’s going on. I’ll be here tomorrow anyway.”

The man hadn’t really said anything about it, but Yuuri knew Yakov was worried about Yuri. Despite his austere exterior, Yakov was obviously fond of the boy. “I will. Thanks again.”

“You may want to shower here before you leave,” Yakov advised with a rueful smile. “I don't expect you’ll get much of a chance at home.”

* * *

“Hello?” Yuuri called as he let himself into the house. “I’m home.”

The hall was quiet and dark. No one answered his call, and his heart picked up speed. Viktor said he would call if he had to bring Yuri to the doctor’s office. Yuuri dug his phone out of his pocket to check for any missed calls as he kicked off his shoes and hung his coat in the call closet. No one had called. “Viktor?” Yuuri tried again, louder this time.

“We’re in here, darling,” Viktor answered him. Yuuri breathed a short sigh of relief and followed the sound of Viktor’s gruffer than usual voice to the dining room. 

“How was practice?” Viktor asked. He stood from his chair to give his husband a kiss. The older man’s hair was still messy, pushed back away from his face but unstyled. He wore a light gray hoodie and a pair of joggers that showered several inches of his bare ankles, and Yuuri guessed they were actually his.

“Fine. Long. Sorry I’m late. Yakov wanted run-throughs.”

“Oh, yes,” Viktor smiled fondly, the corners of his tired eyes crinkling. “I remember.”

“How was your day? How’s our boy?” Yuri sat at the table but hadn’t acknowledged Yuuri’s arrival yet. He was still dressed in his pajamas and fuzzy socks, though Yuuri noticed that Viktor had halfheartedly tried to tidy the boy’s hair into a high ponytail that fountained on the top of his head. Coloring pages and crayons were scattered across the table, and Yuuri could see a few that had rolled onto the floor. Glittery dinosaur stickers decorated all the visible skin of his forearms, and the skater noticed that Viktor even had a pink triceratops stuck onto this sweatshirt. A couple dirty mugs and a bowl with only crumbs in it had collected at the far corner of the table. Looking through the doorway, he saw that the kitchen was in a similar state of disarray. A dirty saucepan was in the sink along with several sippy cups. There was a puddle of spilled juice on the countertop that was starting to get tacky, and the stove was a mess.

“I think we’re doing okay,” Viktor said. “We had some soup and crackers for lunch. We watched _Frozen_ , and now we’re coloring.” 

“I can see that,” Yuuri said, gazing down at the many stray crayon marks marring the table’s surface. “Did you have fun with Papa?” he asked Yuri. He brushed away the wispy hairs that had escaped the boy’s ponytail and felt his forehead. There was a definite fever there now.

“No,” Yuri whined. He reached up to Yuuri, still clutching his fat, purple crayon in his fist. “Feels bad.” 

“What feels bad? Your tummy?” Yuuri tried to tickle him to get him to smile, but Yuri just nodded miserably and flung his arms around the man’s neck.

“What about your head?” Yuri kissed the side of his skull. “Does that hurt too?”

“I don't like it,” Yuri said, and the skater took that as a yes.

“I know. I don't like it either.”

“He started coughing again during the movie,” Viktor explained softly. “I gave him some medicine for it then and after lunch, too.”

“Did he eat?”

“A little. He drank some juice, but I think he has a sore throat. I tried to get him to take a nap earlier, but he only slept for about twenty minutes. I couldn’t get the dishes done.”

“That’s okay,” Yuuri said. He patted Yuri’s back. “We’ll give him some cough medicine or maybe some cold medicine before bed tonight and see if that helps him sleep through the night.”

Viktor nodded. “So you think he as a cold then?”

“That’s what it sounds like to me,” Yuuri said with a shrug. “We can try to get him an appointment with Dr. Chazov to make sure.”

“I already made him one,” Viktor admitted, a sheepish smile spreading across his face.

“You did?” Yuuri raised his eyebrows, smiling back at him.

“Yeah. Tomorrow at nine. We’ll be a little late for practice.”

Yuuri kissed him again. “I think I could be okay with that.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry it has taken me so long to get back to this series. I never meant to leave it for as long as I have. I was trying to write a Christmas fic for like a year for it, and it was going to be all cute and fluffy, but it never worked out for me. So we're skipping Christmas for now until I can work out whatever tinsel-coated issue I'm having with it. I hope you'll accept this sickfic as an apt apology. Come talk to me on Tumblr at bambii--rose
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Leave me a comment letting me know what you think. If you would like to request a fic for this series, leave it in the comments here or come talk to me on Tumblr at bambirosesavage.


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